


Try To Work Up The Courage (to kiss the bottom half of her face)

by earth_skills_alumni_club



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Clarke, Classics nerd bellamy, Co-workers, F/M, Fluff, University, forehead kiss, little bit of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 10:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20813573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earth_skills_alumni_club/pseuds/earth_skills_alumni_club
Summary: Prompts: unexpected first kiss & coworkers (not hurt/comfort but a bit of sleepy/comfort, if that’s a thing)Bellamy and Clarke work at the same cafe while both attending uni. Clarke is not a fan of early morning shifts but Bellamy can’t help but find it endearing.





	Try To Work Up The Courage (to kiss the bottom half of her face)

Bellamy had already been working at the cafe for three years when Clarke was hired by his manager, Pike. It was the beginning of the summer before the last year of his undergrad, and on top of work he was also taking a summer course in advanced latin to free up some room for electives in the last year of his classics degree. Overworked as he was, he couldn’t help but feel resentful towards Clarke, and his opinion was formed before she’d even had her first day. After her interview he’d gotten a peek at her resume on Pike’s desk and it was woefully short. Some volunteer work, a few extracurriculars from school and, hell, she’d listed a family she used to babysit for as her references. He resented her for the privilege she so clearly came from. This was obviously her first job, while he’d been working since before he was even legally allowed to, just to help his mother make ends meet.

But he should have known better than to judge a book by its cover. She put up with his sarcastic and barely concealed insults towards her for barely ten minutes while he was training her before putting him in his place. With a sharp finger to his chest and a glare that felt remarkably intimidating considering it was coming from almost a foot below him, she told him just where he could shove his condescending nicknames, _got it_? Looking back, he should of realized right then that he was doomed to fall for her. 

He continued calling her princess, but the nickname lost its edge, and he found a sparring mate to exercise his banter on. Clarke was remarkably sharp witted, and continuously turned all of his assumptions about her on their heads. It turned out they had more in common than he ever would have assumed. Beyond finding out that she’d lost a parent tragically as well, he discovered she was almost as much of a nerd as he was when she quoted Homer at him. That was the moment he realized he might, possibly, just a little bit, be crushing on her. Before long, it was hard to believe there had been a time when she wasn’t his coworker. 

They made such a good team when they worked together that it seemed Pike went out of his way to make sure they were scheduled for almost all the same days. Their shifts, however, generally only overlapped a couple of hours, since he preferred the opening shifts and her the closing. In fact, Bellamy didn’t think he had ever worked an opening with her. The 5am starts were brutal, but he liked them for the quiet mornings and the fact that they allowed him to get off just when things reached their busiest at the cafe in the afternoon. But now, Bellamy found himself lingering when his shifts ended, wanting just a little more time with her. One time she happened to take her break right when his shift ended, and the time he spent chatting with her made him late for Latin class. 

By the time the fall semester began Bellamy would say they had a pretty solid friendship. Except, they still hadn’t spent any time together outside of work. It was unfair how good she managed to look even with a hairnet, (seriously, who looked good in a hairnet?) but just once he wanted to see how her hair moved when she laughed, or blew in the wind, or anything other than just the way it fell around her shoulders in the moments before she pulled it into a bun when she arrived at work.

He got his wish when the fall was in full bloom and campus was an explosion of colour. It was that time of year when everything was on a precipice, just moments away from falling. The leaves from the trees, the temperature in the air, and apparently, Bellamy’s heart. 

He had just gotten out of his last lecture of the day, and was making his way to the campus bus loop to head home when he heard his name called behind him. 

He knew exactly who it was, and was already grinning when he turned around to see her walking towards him, waving exaggeratedly like he hadn’t already spotted her, wearing a wide smile of her own. 

“Hey princess. Fancy seeing you here.”

“I know, right? It’s almost like I’m a student here too.” 

“Funny. I never would’ve known, what with the complete lack of complaining you do about it. Especially that one prof, what’s his name? Walter?”

“Ugh, Wallace. Don’t even get me started on him.”

“I’ll try. You heading home?” He knew she shared a basement apartment with a couple friends, but he didn’t actually know where. If he was lucky, maybe they took the same bus.

“No, actually, I have a few projects I was going to try and finish up here. Actually, are you doing anything right now? There’s something you could help me with.”

“Me? Really?”

“Yes, you. I need you.”

Minutes later Bellamy found himself being towed along by the hand behind Clarke in the arts building as she walked through the halls, looking into the windows of every classroom. 

“What are you looking for? Are you trying to bring me with you to class? Do you not know where your class is?” He asked (mostly) sarcastically as she peeked into the window of yet another room, pouted at the people inside, and yanked on his hand to drag him to the next door in the hall. 

She huffed a laugh as she looked into another room and continued on. “No, asshole, I know where all my classes are, thank you very much.” She didn’t even glance back at him as she used one hand to push open the door to the stairwell and pulled him through. “Usually at least one of these rooms are empty. I just need somewhere empty and quiet.” 

They were halfway up the stairs to the next floor but he stopped short, using their connected hands to hold her back. She was a few steps above him but she used the momentum of his pulling her hand to whirl around and bounce down so she was just a step above him, and exactly at his eyeline.

“What is it?” Her brow was slightly raised as she quirked her head at him, and Bellamy was distracted for just a moment by how easy it would be to tug her just a little closer and press his lips to hers. But this wasn’t the time. Not yet. 

“I know just the place.” He said with a smile as he turned around and led her back down the stairs to the exit of the arts building.

“The chem building?” She asked as little suspiciously as he dodged an exiting student and slipped in with her. 

“Trust me. Funnily enough, most of my history classes are actually in here.” 

He led them up to the fourth floor, and towards the spot he’d come to think of as his own private study area. Just as he pushed the door open Clarke stopped. 

“Uh, I should wait out here for you, don't you think?” She looked down at their joined hands and back up at him with raised brows. 

“What? No, this is the place I was talking about.” 

“The mens’ washroom? Really Bellamy?”

He laughed, and tugged her hand. “It’s not the washroom. Well it is, but,” She followed him inside and he pointed to the window over the sinks that opened onto a small rooftop. A bright red vine of ivy hung just outside and blew softly into the room with the light breeze. 

“Oh, wow this is beautiful.” Clarke let go of his hand and although he mourned the loss, he felt pleased with himself as she leaned over the sinks to get a better look out the window. “Are we allowed out there?” 

“I mean, probably not technically. But I’ve been out there enough times and no one’s ever caught me. Will this suit your purposes?” 

She flashed him a quick grin as she began climbing onto the open windowsill over the sinks. “It’s perfect. Come on.”

“You want to draw me? That’s what you needed me for?”

Clarke nodded as she pulled out her sketchbook and a fistful of various pens and pencils from her bag. “Yeah, if that’s okay? I have this idea for an assignment from one of my classes, but of course I won’t use it if you don’t like it.” She busied herself with setting up the book on her lap. They both sat cross legged, facing each other on the small roof.

“No, uh, that’s fine. I’m sure I will.” Bellamy knew that Clarke had switched out of Biology into a Fine Arts degree, that it was part of the reason she was still technically in second year even though she’d been a student for three. But even having worked with her for more than six months now, he’d never actually seen any of her work. The fact that the first piece he saw of hers would be of him was more than a little thrilling. “So, how do you want me? In the nude?” 

The sound of her laugh went straight to his heart, made it expand in his chest like maybe if it just got a little bigger, a little closer to her, she would notice it and realize it belonged to her. 

“No, no clothed is fine.” She looked thoughtfully at him as she considered how best to position him. “You’re good just as you are, if you’re comfortable. But instead of looking at me, could you look to the side, a little up towards the sky?” 

Bellamy did as she asked, aiming his gaze just above the tree line of the forest that surrounded their campus. “This okay?”

“Perfect. Don’t worry about moving if you need to stretch or anything, but exactly like that is perfect.” 

He knew she’d begun by the sound of pencil scratching against paper. It had barely been a moment but already Bellamy wanted to turn and look, to see even just the smallest of glimpses into how she saw him. Clarke must have sensed his restlessness, because she soon told him, “You can talk, if you want to by the way. To keep your mind busy.” 

“What should I talk about?”

“You’re a classics major, right? Any chance you could tell me stories about the constellations?”

“I’m specializing in Ancient Greece, Clarke. You know I can.”

“I do. So?”

So he did. He barely even paid attention to his own voice as he spoke, just recited the stories like he’d done so many times when Octavia was little and still liked to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Clarke made little noises as he spoke and at a few points he saw her doing something on her phone in his peripheral, seemingly using it for reference, but mostly she just sat quietly as she worked, bent over the paper on her lap.

Bellamy wasn’t quite sure how long he sat like that, but it must’ve been a fair amount of time given that by the end of it his neck had one helluva kink. He knew Clarke said he could move, but he hadn’t wanted to mess up her drawing, and eventually he’d just sort of become engrossed enough in telling his stories that he forgot. 

“Okay. I’m done. You can move now.” He turned his head to see her stretching her arms over head, rolling her wrists to work out the kinks. He did the same with his head, rolled it gently around before doing the same for his shoulders. 

“How’d it go? Can I see it?” He’d sat patiently without trying to peek while she worked, but now he was eager to see the finished product. 

Clarke set aside her pencils and scooted to sit beside him with the sketchbook in her lap. She leaned into him as she moved the book into his lap and he welcomed the warmth she gave him. They must have been up there for at least close to an hour, as the sun was beginning to dip close to the trees, filling them with rays of gold. 

Bellamy stared at the page in awe. His face filled almost the whole sheet, with just a light suggestion of the shape of his collar below his neck. Plotted out across his face was the night sky, the constellations he’d been telling the tales of taking the place of his freckles, still so prominent from the long and sunny summer. 

“The assignment was to draw something inside something else. Broad, I know. Welcome to the wishy-washy joys of the arts. But anyway, I ran into you and I just saw it. The night sky, especially the consolations, in your face. I hope you don't mind.” 

“No, not at all. No one’s ever… you’re really talented, Clarke. I understand completely why you switched into this, this is amazing.” 

He glanced over at her to see her rubbing at a smudge of grey on her hand. The blush on her cheeks could have been from the slight nip of chill in the fall air, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t. 

“That’s nice of you to say. Thanks, Bellamy.” 

“No problem, princess. So, uh, this is for your class? How many people are gonna see this, exactly?” 

“Oh, just my prof. And the T.A. I think. I’ll probably get it back in a few weeks once they’ve graded it.” 

“Oh yeah? And then what?”

Clarke shot him a sly smile. “Well, I was thinking of tacking it up on my wall. Wouldn’t make a bad sight to wake up to, don’t you think?”

Bellamy was pretty sure that question meant exactly what it implied, but that was part of the problem with having a teasing relationship like theirs. He couldn’t quite be sure, so he just laughed it off, willing his brain to quit short-circuiting on him. Casanova, he was not. 

“I mean sure, if you’re looking for something to scare you out of bed. Get you up and out of the door.” 

She pressed her lips together and looked a little hurt. “Do you not like it? I can get rid of it, it’s fine if-”

Shit. “Shit, no, I’m sorry. It’s amazing, really. It’s just, no one’s ever drawn me before. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to my face being art without looking like an asshole.” 

She smiled. “Well I’m honoured to be the first. And you can like it without being a conceited asshole. You do that well enough on your own. Your face being pretty has nothing to do with it.” 

He could feel the smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it, and he’d never felt so much like his younger self from the early days of his undergrad. All full of bravado and hot air, he’d thought he was such hot shit. He wasn’t that guy anymore, and he was happy that Clarke got to know him as he was now, more centred and self-assured than he’d ever been as a freshman. But that didn’t stop him from snarking out, “You think my face it pretty, eh?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Even as she picked up her book to smack his side with it she laughed, loud and free, so Bellamy counted it as a win. “You’re working tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m opening with Murphy.”

“You’re not, actually. You’re opening with me.” She said as she packed up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. 

“Huh?” Was all he could come up with, and he stood and moved to climb through the open bathroom window. 

“Yeah, he basically begged me to switch my Saturday closing for his opening tomorrow. Thanks.” She said as he held out his hand for her from inside, helping her through the window and slightly awkwardly over the sinks. “Anyway, he owes me his first born basically since I’m missing an art history lecture for him and getting up at the butt crack of dawn, but whatever.”

“That’s shitty, but I can promise you he’ll pay you back somehow. He’s done that to me too, I got a decent amount of free alcohol out of the deal. Can you even do an opening though? Literally, have you ever done one?”

“Honestly?” 

“Yeah, princess, honestly.” 

She snorted as they made their way down the stairs. “Not since Pike trained me on them. I have no idea how I managed to convince him to only give me closing, but anyway, it’s fine. I can do it. I’ll be there bright and early, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The next morning came quickly, as Bellamy blinked awake to the blaring sound of his alarm coming from his phone. The sun had just barely kissed the sky good morning, making it blush light pinks and blues, but Bellamy had to admit the beautiful sunrise was hardly the thing he was looking forward to most that morning. 

Barely 30 minutes later Bellamy was approaching the cafe, still a few minutes early for his shift in order to give himself some time for a coffee before getting down to work. 

Surprisingly, Clarke was already outside, leaning against the wall next to the gate with her arms crossed and eyes closed. He almost would have believed she was asleep.

“Not a morning person, hey princess?” He said as he approached, digging into his pocket for his keys.

“This barely qualifies as morning. This is-” her own yawn cut her off but she was adorably determined to speak through it, “still the middle of the night.” She pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and rubbed aggressively at her eyes. “And I even got here early to make coffee for us, but I forgot my key.”

He snorted as he pulled out the key to unlock the folding iron gate that closed outside the entrance to the cafe. “There’s still time.”

As he shoved it into the keyhole and began the arduous endeavour of getting it to stick (he’d been bugging Pike to replace the locks for years now) Clarke shuffled closer to him and, surprising him so much that his hand froze on the key, pushed her face into the side of his shoulder with a sleepy sigh. 

He glanced down at the top of her head, where the top of her forehead peeked out tantalizingly. Before his brain had a chance to catch up with his instincts, he leaned over to press a soft kiss there. He would blame the lack of caffeine and the still foggy cloud of tiredness in his mind that allowed his heart to control his actions for just a second. She felt warm and soft against his lips and Bellamy knew in an instant that he would happily start his day with her against his lips for all his days. But her hair barely had a chance to tickle his nose before his anxieties that she didn’t feel the same way as he did caught up to him. He reeled back quickly, fearing she would pull away in awkwardness, or worse, disdain. But she stayed put against his bicep and let out what could only be described as a happy, if muffled, chirp. Bellamy could have sworn he felt his heart fly straight out of his chest and into her hands in that moment, like it knew exactly where it belonged, where it was safest. 

This softly grumpy but affectionate side of Clarke was one he’d never seen in her before, and he couldn’t help but think of the joy it would be to wake up next to her. How she might squint at the morning light, give the sun the glare that could stop even the fiercest of warriors in their tracks, but finding the sun undeterred might turn to him, bury her face in his chest. He would hide her from the day for however long she wanted. Except that that would, of course, cost them their jobs. Bellamy had been so distracted by this ambling fantasy that he’d hardly registered Clarke pulling away from his shoulder, looking at him softly. 

“We should probably go in.” She whispered. “Or we’ll hardly have time for a shot of espresso before we have to start working.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” He cleared his throat and forced the folding gate just open enough for them both to slip through before locking it behind them, since they didn’t open for another hour still. Until then it would be just him and Clarke bustling around the cafe, setting up tables and chairs, baking frozen croissants, filling muffin trays with their homemade batter, and pausing for sips of coffee when they could. 

They didn’t talk much as they worked, but Bellamy’s mind was anything but quiet. He couldn’t stop replaying the forehead kiss in his mind, reliving the soft look in her eyes when she’d pulled back from his shoulder. An inkling of hope that maybe she felt the same about him settled in his heart, made it feel light, almost giddy. Something was holding him back from being honest with her about his feelings, maybe the fear that it wouldn’t work out on the surface. On a deeper level, maybe the fear that it would, that she would be it for him. But he was determinedly working towards overcoming those fears, and with every look she gave him, every flicker of her eyes to his lips, it got a little easier. He just had to try to work up the courage to kiss the bottom half of her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Rhode Island by The Front Bottoms. Hope you enjoyed this little flash of fic! Thanks for reading!  
If you’d like to say hi on tumblr i’m earth-skills-alumni-club there as well ^^


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